Chapter 22

TWENTY-TWO

DEV

I’d woken up with Lellie’s warm, pajama-clad body in my arms and the scent of Tully in my nose. When had I ever felt so content and complete?

Unfortunately, I’d forgotten about his need to be at the office early, so when I got Lellie up and brought her downstairs, I was disappointed to find him gone.

“Is he coming back with us to Majestic?” Kenji asked. His hip was propped against the counter by the coffee maker as he took a sip from a steaming mug.

Bam, right to the heart of it. It had occurred to me last night, while I’d been enjoying the easy company and stories of Katie and baby Lellie, that there would be no real reason for Tully to return to Wyoming with us when we went.

And I was ready to go.

Not only did I feel uncomfortable leaving Trigger while he was still recovering, but I had two mares in the final stages of high-risk pregnancies. I knew Way would take good care of all of them, but I itched to be there myself.

And Lellie deserved some stability. She deserved a new normal instead of days in which her schedule was completely fucked like it had been yesterday.

“Dunno,” I admitted. “I’d imagine not.”

Kenji studied me across the top of the mug while he took another sip. I pretended to ignore him and settled Lellie in her chair before handing her the cup of milk Kenji had already prepared.

“Your ass looks nice in them jeans.”

The exaggerated cowboy swagger didn’t come out of Kenji’s mouth but out of Foster’s. I whipped my head around and saw his face on Kenji’s laptop screen. He was crowded into the same little window that held Way and Silas. Bash and Rowe were in another, and the final one had Landry and Zane in it.

“Fucking Christ,” I said, clutching my chest.

Landry’s lazy voice tsk ’d. “You should probably learn to use cleaner language now that you’re an old man.”

“What are you all doing up at this hour? Way, how’re the horses?”

While they reminded me that New York was an hour ahead and ranchers woke up early, I moved to the fridge to grab food for Lellie. It was comforting hearing their voices while I put together a simple breakfast for her. Foster finally couldn’t take it and intervened.

“How’re you gonna convince that city boy to come back home with you?”

I stared at him until Lellie flung greek yogurt at me. Kenji snickered and handed me a paper towel.

“He’s not coming back with me,” I said. “He lives here. His career is here.”

Silas’s face was pinched in thought. “More rich people moving into Majestic every day. Ask me how I know.”

I rolled my eyes. “I can’t imagine there’s enough work for him in trusts and estate law, Silas. Even you, me, and Way wouldn’t be able to give him enough work to keep busy.”

While Foster didn’t know about our billions, he knew enough to know we had enough money to need looking after. Once Silas had turned up, Fletcher Ranch had never seen another dollar in debt after years of struggle. And he also knew that I’d bought a hundred acres of prime acreage and was building a house with a sprawling footprint on it. Even his mother would know I couldn’t afford that on any ranch hand’s salary.

“Everyone needs a will,” Landry said, allowing his serious side to emerge in a rare moment of vulnerability. “You never know when shit’s going to happen.”

“Language,” everyone warned, causing him to shoot his middle fingers at the camera.

“He’d have to start his own firm. That takes mon…” My voice trailed off as I heard how ridiculous that sounded.

“Huh,” Silas said, tapping his chin with his forefinger. “Wonder where he could find an investor. Or five.”

“Six,” Rowe said with an impish grin. Even though it had been a year since he’d turned his business idea into gold, he still wasn’t used to having money to burn.

Foster waved his hand dismissively at Silas and Way. “I may not have any money to invest, but even a lowly sheriff needs a will. And there’s plenty of contract law around here if he’s willing to get familiar with ranches and agricultural stuff.”

“His dad was a rancher,” I said. “The man’s from Texas, for god’s sake. I’m sure half his clients are related to agriculture or oil.” Before anyone could pipe back in and argue that I was proving their point, I held up a hand. “That doesn’t mean he wants it. He hated growing up on a ranch.”

Kenji’s soft voice interjected. He usually kept fairly quiet when the rest of us were together. “He hated growing up on his father’s ranch. Don’t assume that means he hates ranches in general.”

Thinking of Tully watching the sun set against the peaks of Three Daughters and showing Lellie the horses, I knew Kenji had a point. But we’d gotten off track.

“We’re not even dating,” I reminded them. “We barely know each other. And Tully’s smart. He’s cautious. He’s not going to uproot his life and move to small-town Wyoming so he can watch a guy he barely knows stumble through single parenting. That would be… foolish.”

“Beyond foolish,” Kenji agreed. “If that’s what he was doing. Personally, I think there are good reasons why Tully might want to move to Majestic, but I’m not sure he’s aware of all of them. Have you even explained that it’s an option?”

Again with the options ?

Landry leaned closer to the camera, making sure the angle was still complimentary, although the man didn’t have a bad angle. “What Kenji’s trying to say is that Tully might as well be the father of your child, Devon.” His eyes flicked. “Tell him, Kenji.”

I turned to see Kenji, who still stood by the coffee maker. His cheeks were a little pink, possibly from the heat of the coffee, and he huffed out a frustrated breath. “No, that’s not what I’m saying,” he argued. “The point I was trying to make was something altogether different. But… it’s true that there are some things you should see that might help you understand things better, Dev.”

“Wait, what?” Landry asked. “What point were you trying to make, then?”

Kenji ignored him. He met my eyes and tilted his head toward the tablet lying on the kitchen counter.

“Kenji?” Landry asked again. “You know I hate it when you ignore me, damn it.”

I squinted my eyes to see what was on the tablet, but the screen was dark. Kenji used his tablet for everything, but nothing about it was related to Tully or Lellie.

Oh.

Except the messages from Katie, which I still haven’t read.

“We’ll see how it goes with Tully,” I told the others, turning back to the laptop screen and trying to smile. “Right now, I need to finish feeding Lellie and get her dressed. We’re heading back to Majestic today, so I’ll see you soon, Silas and Way. And the rest of you… I’ll see you at the AdventureSmash concert in a couple weeks.”

Before they could talk me out of it, I walked over to the computer and ended the video call.

Without a word, Kenji picked up the tablet, swiped to unlock it, clicked an icon, and handed it over. “I’ll handle Lellie. Take all the time you need.”

I hadn’t wanted to do this right now. Quite frankly, I hadn’t wanted to do it anytime soon.

But if there was a key to the Tully situation in the messages from Katie, I had to find it. She was one of his closest friends. Even if she didn’t mention anything relevant to Tully’s career dreams, maybe I’d learn something in here that would give me some indication of whether he might want a serious relationship one day.

I moved through the house to the tiny study in the back corner. It had old wood-paneled walls and an antique desk. But it also had a light pink overstuffed chair and matching ottoman right next to a box of Kleenex.

Perfect.

There was no way I would get through any message from Katie without shedding a few tears.

Fifteen minutes later, I gasped for breath and realized I’d drastically underestimated the waterworks.

Katie’s messages ranged from short and sweet “Doc said baby is the size of an ostrich egg. How TF am I supposed to know how big an ostrich egg is?” to long, narrative passages more like a diary entry in which she worried about the pain of childbirth, wondered if she was doing the right thing, and waited patiently for the next stage of her journey. There were photos of pregnancy tests, ultrasound images, cute maternity clothes with a barely noticeable bump, and swollen ankles. And then there was an actual video of her face the moment she delivered. The camera was moving around enough to make me seasick, but when I heard the sound of Lellie belting out her first complaints, I couldn’t believe I’d missed it.

I’d missed all of it.

Every milestone, from her first steps to the first time she called Katie “Ma-ma.” Learning she hated peas but loved green beans. Watching her figure out how to push a plastic lawn mower and seeing her little tongue stick out in concentration.

I knew I would get to see so many more of Lellie’s milestones than Katie ever would, and the realization stole my breath. The sheer loss overwhelmed me, both for my sake, since I wouldn’t be able to share the joy of our daughter with her, and for her sake, for missing all but fifteen months of Lellie’s precious life.

There were messages that made me feel seen as a single parent.

It’s me again. Today was a good day. I managed to get out of work early and surprised Lellie with a walk to the playground before dinner. She played so hard with the other toddlers that she fell asleep in her high chair before she finished her dinner.

Nights like these leave me with mixed emotions. On the one hand, it’s nice to have quiet time alone at home where I can sit in my pink chair and lose myself in a book. But on the other hand, I miss her when she’s sleeping and I’m awake and available to be with her. I feel guilty sometimes that she doesn’t get enough of me, and I wonder if I’m doing the right thing by continuing to work. Between your money and mine, I could choose to take the next several years off to be with her full-time if I truly wanted to. Am I selfish to remain in my job? To want to continue to grow and nurture that part of me?

But then I imagine her as an older child, then a teen, and a young adult. What does that young woman need to learn from me? Wouldn’t I be a better example to her by showing her that a woman can pursue a fulfilling career and also be a loving and committed parent? Or am I falling into a cultural trap of thinking women need to “do it all”? Sometimes I wish I had a partner to talk these things through with.

I can talk to Renata, but she’s so young still…

As I clicked through the messages, photos, and videos, I completely forgot the reason Kenji had sent me away to read them.

Until I got to the one about Tully.

There had been many casual mentions of him in other messages. Photos of him in the hospital, holding Lellie awkwardly. Anecdotes about him bringing pork chops and asparagus for dinner one night when Lellie was four months old and innocently assuring Katie there was enough “for the baby to share.” A video of a Labor Day cookout, where Katie panned the phone camera to where Tully held Lellie on his hip while talking to someone else. She was reaching for his glass of wine, and he was holding it comically out of her reach while she continued to grab for it.

But then there was the email with a subject line that simply read: Tully .

Sometimes I watch him at work. He’s incredible at his job—smart, hard-working, and dedicated to taking care of his clients as if they were his own family. I love that about him. He also makes time for me and Lellie even though I know he’d much prefer to go to the clubs on a Saturday night.

It’s weird though. Something changed with him right around the time I got pregnant. I asked him about it, afraid motherhood has somehow put distance between us. He insisted it hasn’t. He told me how much he appreciates being part of Lellie’s life and how he couldn’t imagine his life without her.

He’s a good man, Dev. The best. I’m so lucky to have him in my life and in our daughter’s.

He told me about you… about that night. He didn’t mention any details, but he said the two of you had hooked up. I didn’t press him on it, but there was something different about the way he talked about you. Softer? Was he blushing? I don’t know. Maybe he was just hot since it’s August in Dallas for fuck’s sake the love of Pete.

(That’s me trying to get a handle on not using so many cuss words. It’s not easy cleaning the eff-word out of my vocabulary! I can just imagine Lellie showing up to school one day after the Cowboys lose and repeating bad words she learned watching the game with my co-workers.)

I wish I could set you and Tully up properly. I think you’d really like him, Dev.

I stared at the screen where she’d attached a photo of Tully asleep on the sofa in a living room I didn’t recognize. A fat-cheeked baby Lellie was asleep face down on his chest with her head tilted to the side over his heart. There was a giant wet spot on his shirt where she’d been drooling. His arms were around her, with one of his large hands sprawled across her back. Her knees were drawn up under her, pushing her little rounded butt in the air.

There was another one. This time, he was tickling her nose with a buttercup, and she was laughing with her eyes squeezed shut. It had to have been taken recently, within the last few months.

Seeing the two of them with flowers piled between them at the ranch hadn’t been the first time they’d done that.

There was something sweet about it that gave me a sense of gratitude, which was obviously what Katie had felt. But it also showed his constancy, which was something my parents hadn’t shown me.

I wiped the tears off my face and shut the tablet down. I hadn’t gotten through all of the messages, but I’d gotten through enough that I thought I understood what Kenji had been trying to tell me.

Tully didn’t just care about Lellie because she was Katie’s daughter and he wanted to do right by her. He’d been part of her life—an important part—from the beginning, and he’d want to stay in her life as much as possible.

Now, I just had to convince him there was a way for him to stay in mine , too.

Thankfully, Renata and her father came over a little while later and volunteered to help us go through Katie’s personal belongings to determine what to keep for Lellie and what to donate.

Renata told me that while Katie loved her house, she didn’t have the kind of sentimental attachment to it that would make it worth keeping for Lellie down the road.

“You’d be better off buying a beach house with the money and having someplace fun to take her during school vacations in the next twenty years,” Renata’s father had said with a wink. “Young women aren’t nearly as excited about Dallas real estate as they’d be about a place in Padre.”

We spent several hours rotating between caring for Lellie and packing up Katie’s things. It was easier for me than Renata since I didn’t have memories here and hadn’t been as close to Katie in the past several years as she had. Kenji arranged for a real estate agent Tully had recommended to list the house, and by the time midafternoon rolled around, Kenji, Lellie, and I were ready to go.

We said a tearful goodbye to Renata and confirmed her plans to come to Majestic for the hot-air balloon festival later this summer. “Take care of her and send me pictures,” she insisted with a brave smile.

When I’d checked in with Tully, I’d learned about his firm’s plans to keep him busy and distracted from Lellie’s case. It wasn’t a surprise, though the thought of returning to Majestic without him made my chest ache. In less than a couple of weeks, he’d become a part of my world there.

He’d become a part of my world, period.

And even though I understood why the separation was necessary, that didn’t mean I had to be happy about it. Or stop racking my brain to find a way to work out a different plan.

After loading up our suitcases for the return trip, the driver Kenji had arranged made her way through the crowded city streets before pulling up to a tall, mirror-bright building downtown. I unbuckled Lellie and held her on my hip as we left the stifling heat and entered the cool, quiet lobby of the sky rise. Professionals in dark suits walked quickly past us with the rapid clip-clip sounds of high heels and wingtips.

Lellie’s eyes were big as we entered the glass-sided elevator and whooshed up above the atrium with its green plants and decorative trees in planter pots. When the elevator stopped at Tully’s floor, the people down below looked like flies buzzing around the base of the tiny trees.

“Welcome to Dunlevy, Pace, and Trumble,” a receptionist said from behind a long desk. “How may I help you?”

“We’re here to see Tully Bowman, please.”

Before she had a chance to notify him, the man himself came striding into the lobby, his hair perfectly styled and his suit perfectly pressed. I found my mouth twisting up in a grin. Tully looked sexy as hell in his business clothes. The suit pants looked like they’d been tailored with the express purpose of reminding me what his ass and thighs felt like in my hands.

He laughed as he said something to the person walking along beside him—a city boy like Tully, whose suit was impeccably tailored and whose eyes were fixed on Tully’s face with a kind of heated interest that bordered on fascination.

I resisted the urge to growl Mine and claim Tully right there in the lobby.

Lellie had no such compunctions. “Tuh-wee!” she called happily. “Tuh-wee!”

Tully turned instantly, and his face lit up with a big smile. “Hi, baby!”

For a split second, I thought the endearment was for me, but then I realized he was addressing Lellie as she threw herself out of my arms and into his.

I glanced at the other man to gauge his reaction. It was obvious he was tall and good-looking. A small spike of envy twisted inside me as I realized this man, a complete stranger, would continue to have easy access to Tully after I was gone, whether he was a coworker or client.

“Tully, is this your daughter?” the man asked in surprise.

“Hmm? No, no,” Tully said, still making a silly face at Lellie. “This is my friend Katie’s daughter, and Dev here is her father.”

The description was accurate, but it still stung. He hadn’t said, “This is my friend Dev’s daughter” or “This is Lellie and her father, Dev, who’s a good friend of mine.” He definitely hadn’t said, “This is Lellie and her father, Dev, the man I’ve been sharing a bed with for a week.”

I exchanged a polite smile with the man, who seemed to look relieved to discover we weren’t Tully’s family, and then the man turned to shake Tully’s hand.

“Thanks for taking the time to meet with me today, Tully. I look forward to working closely with you in the future.” His smile was a little too warm, and he emphasized the word closely and held Tully’s hand a beat too long.

The guy was laying it on thick if you asked me.

But nobody asked me.

Tully hitched Lellie on his hip and tilted his head toward the doorway he’d come through. “Let’s go to my office. Where’s Kenji?”

“Waiting in the limo. He’s catching up on work and told me to take my time.” With the other guy’s overly warm smile still fresh in my mind, I couldn’t stop myself from blurting, “I think he likes you.”

Tully shot me an adorably confused frown as he led me into his office. “Who, Kenji? Aw. I like him, too. He’s very?—”

I shut the office door, grabbed Tully around the waist, and pulled him against me, pressing a seeking kiss to his lips. He came readily, eagerly, pushing me back against the office door while taking care not to crush Lellie. He sweetly pulled her to the side with one arm while fisting my shirt with his other hand.

Lellie giggled, thinking it was a game.

The kiss was over almost as quickly as it had begun. “That,” he said breathlessly, “was a hell of a goodbye.”

I gaped at him with mouth open and chest heaving. “I told you, it’s not a goodbye unless you want it to be.” Please don’t want it to be .

But I didn’t know what to say to convince him. So, instead, I pulled him back into me. “More,” I breathed.

Tully leaned in and kissed me once more, this time teasing and soft. I followed his movements until he turned his head and pressed a smacking kiss on Lellie’s cheek. She giggled again.

“Silly goose,” he said, tickling her side. “Are you going to take care of your daddy for me in Wyoming?”

The reminder was a sharp pain that cut through my Tully-clouded brain.

“Dah!” she said, patting at me with a smile. Her attempt to say “Dev” had always sounded like “Dad” anyway. I wondered how long it would take her to say “Daddy.”

I shook off my sentimental thoughts and tried to focus. Kenji was waiting, and Lellie was bound to get squirmy before long.

“Hey, ah, do you think you can help me with a real estate thing?”

Tully blinked but gave me a polite, professional smile as he moved farther into the office and gestured for me to take a seat in one of the chairs opposite his desk. He sat in the other and set Lellie down so she could toddle around. “Katie’s house?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. I spoke to the agent you recommended, and they’re taking care of it. Renata and her parents offered to help, too. This is about my parents’ house. It’s in Lellie’s trust, and I want you to transfer ownership of it to my parents.”

Tully’s eyebrows creased. “You want to give it to them, free and clear?”

I could tell he was holding himself back from adding, “ After what they did to you? ”

“Yes,” I said. “I don’t want to have any more contact with them, and this will make it easier.”

Tully shifted in his chair. “Uh… technically, Dev, that asset isn’t yours to give. I mean, legally, it’s in Lellie’s trust, and the trust is meant to be used for Lellie. The trust has a ‘HEMS’ provision, which means while she’s a minor, the assets should be used for her health, education, maintenance, and support.”

“Aren’t I the trustee? Don’t I get to decide?”

“Yes and yes. But you would have to determine how gifting a large asset like that to her paternal grandparents, people she will not have a future relationship with, will serve one of those categories.” He paused before continuing. “There are other options, though. The trust is allowed to sell assets and reinvest that money in another way. Devon McKay—or any legal entity you own—could be the buyer, and then that legal entity could gift it to the McKays. So you could set up a revocable trust, if you don’t already have one, purchase the home at market value from Lellie’s trust, and then sign a quitclaim deed…”

He continued to talk through various suggestions until I realized I was too busy admiring his legal competence to understand the complexities he was trying to explain.

I held up a hand. “Can I just hire you to make this happen? Maybe work with my existing firm to figure out the best way?”

He dipped his chin. “Of course. I’d love to help. I can have my assistant reach out to Kenji.”

I took a deep breath. “Good. Thank you. I’ll feel better if I sever that final connection.”

Tully tilted his head at me. “Have your attorneys been working on a new estate plan now that you’ve decided to keep Lellie? Remember, I’m happy to look over anything they come up with, if you want. Trusts are my specialty.”

I saw this unexpected opening and seized it.

“They’re working on it, but actually… I really wish there was a trusts and estates attorney in Majestic. It would be much easier to work with someone local instead of my old firm in New York.”

I tried to play it cool.

It didn’t work.

“You know,” I continued, as if just now thinking of the idea. “You should consider moving there. It’s a great place to live, and there’s a noticeable lack of trusts and estates attorneys in town.”

Tully’s eyes were calm, a glass-smooth Gulf on a hot summer’s day, but his lip twitched. “You don’t say.”

“And Majestic is growing,” I said, clearing my throat. “With the multiyear deal to bring in AdventureSmash races, young people are coming in for work and outdoor adventure. The town is getting a ton of national attention because of it.”

“Mm. That’s great,” he said. “For all of you.”

“And if you worked in Majestic, you could spend your days helping hot cowboys instead of Wall Street bros like that guy.” I thumbed over my shoulder toward the reception area.

“That guy?” His forehead crinkled. “Oh, you mean Miles?”

“ Miles ?” I scoffed as if the name was disgusting. Because it was. Who named their child after a unit of measurement?

“Miles Dumas is the heir of one of the largest oil companies in Texas,” he explained. His grin widened. “If you’re trying to convince me I’d enjoy writing wills for ranch hands and sugar beet farmers more than working on trusts and endowments for a billionaire, you’re facing an uphill battle.”

I opened my mouth to spout off about the number of billionaire clients he’d sign his first day in Majestic, but then I snapped my mouth closed. That wasn’t how I wanted to convince him. And I wasn’t allowed to share that information with him.

Yet .

Because there was one condition under which the Billionaire Brotherhood could reveal our true wealth and the story behind it, and that was if and when we found our life partner.

I was becoming more and more confident that I’d found mine, but Tully’s easy smile suggested he wasn’t having nearly as hard a time saying goodbye as I was.

“So Miles is your client?” I asked.

“Mmm. Looks like it.” Tully leaned back in his chair with an abstracted little smile on his face, his gaze tracking Lellie as she tottered over to the floor-length window and babbled at herself in the reflective surface. “He’s the new client I was telling you about. The one Orris handed me to distract me from the Scott business and the fact that I’m not with Lellie anymore,” he said wryly.

“And will he?” I demanded. The words came out rougher than I’d meant.

Tully’s gaze shot to mine. “What?”

“Will this Miles guy keep you too distracted to think about those things?”

To think about me ?

“Obviously not.” Tully scowled now. “You know I adore Lellie. I’m going to miss her terribly. But you said you’d fly me back to Majestic in a couple of weeks, didn’t you? You said… you said it didn’t have to be goodbye?—”

“That guy is interested in you,” I said flatly. “What I want to know is whether you’re interested in him, too.”

To my surprise, Tully didn’t pretend to misunderstand what I was saying. He didn’t deflect with some excuse about Miles not being interested. Instead, he gaped at me, lips parted, as an angry flush climbed up from the crisp collar of his shirt, over his neck, to suffuse his cheeks. His eyes positively flashed with temper.

“Are you… are you f- flipping kidding me?” he spluttered. He darted a look at Lellie, checking to confirm that she was still engrossed in her own reflection, and in two seconds flat, he was around the desk, standing between my knees, his finger jabbing my chest accusingly just as he’d done a few days before.

“I was in your bed last night, Devon McKay,” he hissed. Poke . “And the night before that, and the night before that, and the mother-flipping night before that.” Poke. “Did you actually come into my office and try to insinuate that I’m sizing up replacements? Huh?” Poke . “Want to know how many men I’ve actually dated in the last two years, Dev? None. None . Because you’re not the only one who knew nothing could be better than our hookup two years ago. I tried to forget. I tried being with other guys. It didn’t work. I never forgot you. And I…”

His hand had gone from poking me to gripping my shirt, his eyes from burning with anger to burning with… something else. Something I didn’t want to try to interpret in case I got it wrong.

I lifted my hands to cup his face. “Okay,” I said softly.

“It’s not okay,” Tully insisted. “You’re…”

“A jealous ass,” I finished for him. “And I’m sorry.” I grabbed him around the waist and pulled him down to sit on my lap.

I was sure we made a strange sight if anyone were there to see us. Tully was too tall to fit comfortably in that position, especially given the small chair, and I knew his suit was getting wrinkled to hell, but I wrapped my arms around him anyway. The urge to hold him was more powerful than any discomfort.

Clearly, he felt the same because he wrapped his arms around my neck and clung on.

“I hate leaving you here with a bunch of other hot city boys. I’m going to miss you every minute,” I confessed.

He exhaled a shuddering breath against my neck. “Yeah, well, meanwhile, I’m sending you home to Foster .”

I snickered. “Tully, I’ve told you?—”

He pulled back to shoot me a dirty look. “Don’t you dare remind me you’re just friends,” he said. “If you get to be irrationally jealous of my freaking client, I get to be irrationally jealous, too.”

I pulled a frown and pretended to think about it for a second, then nodded. “Okay. Deal.”

Tully nestled against me again. “I was trying to be calm because I didn’t want to upset Lellie, but…” He shook his head. “I’m going to miss you both,” he said quietly. “What if she forgets how to say Tuh-wee in the next two weeks?”

I ran a comforting hand over his shoulder. “How could she, when we’ll call you every night?”

He sighed. “Yeah. And I guess… it’s only actually a week and a half or something until the concert, not a full two weeks. I’ll see you both then.”

“You’d better.” I smoothed his tie. “Because you owe me.”

“Owe you?” He frowned. “For what?”

“I was promised a 3:00 a.m. date last night,” I reminded him. “And it never materialized. What’s my legal recourse here, counselor? Surely there’s some kind of breach of contract when one man says he’ll rail another into the bed and doesn’t follow through.”

Tully laughed out loud, exactly as I’d hoped, and this time when he sat up to look at me, his bright, beautiful smile was firmly in place.

“No need to engage an attorney yet, Mr. McKay,” he teased softly. He pressed a too-brief kiss against my lips. “It may take longer than I hoped… but I always pay my debts.”